Out and about, little by little, and very grateful for it

We’re escaping our home environs. Beginning to, anyway. Slowly. And only after determining that our destination is worth risking our lives.

“CAUTION” is still written in capital letters. Limitations still exist. How long before golfers can again boast or wail about their scores in their course clubhouses? When will shoppers feel free to try on clothing in dressing rooms?

When will we watch a baseball game, even on television, with actual fans in the stands? How about the library? Many of us are “weekly readers,” so to speak. When my husband was alive, I went to our library twice weekly. Will our far-overdue books be sanitized?

But think how far we’ve come: Like going to the doctor. How many of your appointments have been canceled, and rescheduled for August or September? Until now, most medical visits were done via video conferencing.

Now most offices are open. Recently I got some hyaluronic acid shot into my aching knee. Might even be able to walk the poodle again.

What’s more, I felt safe venturing to the medical facility. Once there, I had to complete a long list of “Have you been out of the country recently? Do you have a cough? Is there anyone sick at home?” (No to all.) Then, after a temperature check — woo-hoo, I passed — I was allowed to stand in a checkin line (6 feet from the person ahead, of course).

Still no magazines to while away the wait time; didn’t want to bring my phone into a “could-bedangerous” environment. So, I sat and sat and sat. The docs are catching up from

Senior Living three months of postponed appointments, and are overbooking — bless their hearts. We’re grateful to wait and wait and wait.

But horrors be if we were to venture out unmasked. Frankly, I think wearing masks is one of the worst (other than medical) horrors of COVID-19.

At Ace Hardware the other day, I passed a familiar-looking woman. We paused, and she said, “Karen?” I replied, “Susan?” Guess we’d forgotten what each other looked like. Eyes don’t always give a person’s identity away. Of course, we couldn’t do a catch-up chat — not at 6 feet. In addition, chatting is severely frowned upon in most stores. “Shoppers will please not linger in the aisles!”

But spotting the wide variety of masks on display is rather like a treasure hunt. Which is the most different? Which don’t make the ears stick out?

What works best — loops or ties?

I am fortunate to have my beautiful Liberty of London fabric mask, made by a dear neighbor. And daughter Kerry has ordered a Badger one for me (coming from China) that will probably arrive in time for the University of Wisconsin football season — if there is one. Although unneeded for watching a game on TV, it will nicely complement my Badger sweatshirt.

For those of us blessed to have avoided the nasty virus, separation from other people is probably the most difficult aspect of our isolation. We need each other! Too many family gatherings are still held on driveways or in garages.

Our court provided several opportunities for “separated” togetherness. Twice the neighborhood organizer has called residents and suggested they bring their own chairs and drinks (I took my dog) and meet in one end of the court. They were warm, sunny days, and we sat 6 feet apart in a large circle. And just talked and talked as though we’d never done it before.

Going to Publix is a highlight of my week, where I normally exchange smiles with other shoppers as I push my sanitized cart through the aisles.

I still smile at them, but have no idea if they’re smiling back. How can you tell under a mask? When you do recognize close friends, the world would end if you gave them a hug. I will say, my orthopedist gave me an elbow bump at the end of my appointment the other day. It replaced the handshake quite nicely. We both grinned.

But, think back to a year ago. In May 2019, would you have been thrilled — over the top — to go shopping at T.J. Maxx or Macy’s? Would you golfers have realized how much you’d miss your post-game beer and wings?

Last May would you have appreciated scoring a box of Kleenex or paper towels or especially toilet paper at your grocery store? Would getting a haircut have thrown you into a tizzy of excitement?

To me, this time of fear and quarantine is summarized by the recent Hampton Roads fly-over by a Raptor and two P-51s. I watched from my end of the court. At the other end was Joan, wearing a red, white and blue shirt and vigorously waving a small American flag. Honor shown to the brave healthcare providers was a fitting memorial for this difficult period in American history.

That’s what I want to remember.

Karen K. Spaulding can be reached at kksbadger@cox.net.